


Courage of the Stars

by Takada_Saiko



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, AU Quiet Minds, F/M, Family, Rumbelle - Freeform, Swanfire - Freeform, choose a different path
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-08 21:43:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3224507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Takada_Saiko/pseuds/Takada_Saiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there's one trait Baelfire shares with his late father, it's that he's willing to do anything to get back to his family, even dabble in some of the darkest of spells and bending the laws of magic. AU to Quiet Minds. Swanfire. Rumbelle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Prologue.**

Everything looked familiar even if it was all wrong. Granny’s stood just off Main Street, but there was trash littering the front yard and the roof looked like it might cave in at any time. The inn behind it had been completely obliterated. The windows were blown out on the pet shelter and a glance down the street a ways showed the clock tower was crumbling, the hands on the clock stuck at the exact time that Henry and Emma had crossed over the townline to escape. Gusts of wind picked the littered trash up, simply redistributing it down the otherwise abandoned streets and the skies overhead rumbled dangerously. It was like everyone had fled some great storm that had descended upon the little town in Maine, leaving only the destruction that followed in behind them.

There was one man left, though, and he felt the need to find someone welling up within him. Several someones, if he were honest with himself and he pushed through what was left of Storybrooke, calling out names as he went. No one answered. No one was left to answer.

It reminded him of what he’d seen in the Enchanted Forest when he’d been searching for a way to get to Emma and Henry. Bae knew that, somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind, but the thoughts didn’t make sense. He wasn’t sure what could have done this to the town and left him behind. As he looked around, he saw that he was truly, utterly alone.

His father’s pawn shop still stood just down from Granny’s. Of course it did. The world could crash down around it - and had - but it remained standing. The windows were cracked and the door was hanging open, slightly off its hinges like someone had forced their way in. He pushed it carefully, avoiding the glass that was littered through the opening. “Papa?” he called, his voice lost to the empty and damaged little shop.

“Dad?” came a voice in return and Bae knew it well. He darted for the back of the shop, not caring to avoid the shattered glass tops that had once been the viewing tables or the various bits and pieces that were scattered across the broken floor. Henry was in the back and in that moment he was certain he hadn’t seen him in far too long.

“Hey, buddy,” he greeted as he pushed back the curtain only to find the back of the shop empty, the exit just past his father’s work table ajar as the front door had been. He opened it up and caught sight of the little yellow bug that he’d stolen, once upon a long time ago and that Emma, in turn, had stolen from him. It was on its way out of town, putting towards that line that was marked in bright orange and Bae felt fear rising up in him. They couldn’t leave. If they left, they’d never remember any of them. That’s how the curse worked. “Emma!” he called, trying to catch up, but the voice behind him made him stop.

“You’ll never make it.”

Bae whirled around, finding Henry standing at the door. He wasn’t smiling, but instead looked at him with an expression he knew all too well. It was the same look he’d seen in the mirror after he’d fallen through the portal, his hand slipping from his papa’s when the dagger had meant more to him than his own son. “Henry?”

“You let us go,” his son said evenly, his voice cold. “You abandoned us, just like your dad did to you and his did to him. You were going to break the cycle, but you didn’t.”

“No, Henry, I’m trying to get back to you,” Bae answered in a rush, memories crushing in around him and flying away again just as quickly so that he couldn’t quite pick them apart. All he knew was that he needed to get to his son. Even as he reached out, though, Henry started to fade, that accusing look cutting through him sharper than any knife ever could.

Baelfire’s eyes snapped open and he found himself looking straight up at what might have been an ornate marble ceiling once. There were cracks in it now, caused by a curse that had ripped everyone from the Enchanted Forest. A curse his father had used to get to him. The reversal of that curse had stolen Henry away, though, and that was what Bae had been trying so desperately to piece together amidst his nightmare.

He managed to disentangle himself from the sheets in a bed that probably hadn’t been used in centuries - if ever - and pressed bare feet down to the cold wood, making his way down the hall of the castle, his mind spinning to put together facts. Henry and Emma were gone, trapped in the Land Without Magic with no memories of anything that had taken place in Storybrooke. Bae, along with everyone else, had been put back down by the curse’s reversal into the land of his birth. Well, almost everyone else. His father hadn’t come through with him. Rumplestiltskin had died to make sure that they remained safe. He’d died so that Bae could find his happy ending.

Instead all Bae had found was a lonely ache left behind. His son and his love were gone and the father that he’d just managed to find again had died for him. His papa had been right: there truly was no pain worse than regret. There were no happy endings in sight.

No, he reminded himself firmly, that’s why they were there. He and Belle had split ways from David and Mary Margaret to journey to the Dark Castle and find a way to bring his father back. Belle seemed determined that the fact that the dagger was missing meant that there was a way and they’d stumbled almost immediately on a very helpful candle that had shown them the way to a key that would open the Vault of the Dark One. It was their best option and they’d made pans to leave at dawn for the vault.

“Do you feel like this is all coming too easily?”  Belle asked almost immediately as he padded his way into the Great Hall. She was seated in one of two overstuffed chairs that they’d dragged into the room before splitting ways - so he’d thought - to go to bed, but by the looks of the fire she’d never left.

Bae quirked an eyebrow and took a seat across from her. It was freezing outside and the spells mean to keep the cold out of his father’s castle had long since worn down, leaving it just as drafty as any of the other abandoned castles that littered the Enchanted Forest after the Dark Curse hit. “And you’re complaining about this?”

Belle shifted a little, flipping the page of the book she was reading. There were stacks of others that she’d apparently made her way through, with bits of paper marking places that she’d taken notes in them. She’d been busy, without a doubt, and Bae couldn’t help but wonder why she was trying to find a reason not to pursue this.

“No,” she said at last, “I just keep trying to imagine what Rumple would say if he was here. He’d tell us that everything comes with a price, and I’m wondering what that could be.”

She had a point, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. Bae had been so laser-focused on finding a way to get back to Emma and Henry that he’d ignored anything that was inconvenient. The larger the goal, the steeper the price, but that was certainly inconvenient when all he could do was think about how quickly he needed to get back to his son. He’d be a fool to say that he’d pay anything, because even he knew that wasn’t true. What would the point of returning to his loved ones be if it immediately cost him his life? Some prices were simply unmanageable, and with those words from Belle’s mouth he could almost hear his father in them.

“Well,” Bae said reasonably, “we traveled here and we’re looking. That’s something.”

Belle laughed at him. “Something, perhaps.”

He sighed. “No, I get it. I get what you’re saying, but if it’s a chance… If it can bring my dad back so that we can get back to Storybrooke, then we should take that chance. What if the price is in taking the gamble?”

“May I… ask you a very personal question?”

Bae stopped, finding her clear blue eyes fixated on him and he couldn’t shake the feeling that the woman could look into his very soul. Not for the first time he could almost feel the depth of Belle’s love for the man that they’d been speaking about. It was strange. He’d been young, certainly, but he’d never felt that from his mother when his parents had been together. Milah had been spiteful and she’d been angry. Her words were cutting and did more damage than any of the blows that somehow landed on Rumplestiltskin’s shoulders in the little village in which Bae had been a child. Belle, though, was something entirely different. He hadn’t spent a great deal of time around them together, but he had seen the influence that she’d made on his father and it couldn’t be denied. No, that woman had somehow pulled back the many layers of evil that Rumplestiltskin had been wrapped in to show a glimmer of Bae’s papa beneath, and for that, he nodded the go ahead. He thought he could manage a bit of honesty.

“I know, and of course understand, that you want to get back to Emma and Henry, but… even if your father couldn’t help you get to them, would you still want to bring him back?”

Okay, maybe not _that_ honest. Bae felt a coldness spread through his chest and he knew the question was loaded with pitfalls and dangers of all kinds. Not that Belle meant for it to be, he didn’t think, but it was just the nature of discussing his and his father’s relationship. His papa had been his entire life as a little boy, and even more so when his mom had left - abandoned - them. That’s why the change had been so difficult when Rumplestiltskin had set out on his quest to find a way to save his son as himself, but had returned as a demon. Bae hadn’t been willing to fully believe he’d lost his father to it, though, until he felt his fingers loosen around his own smaller wrist and the portal had pulled in him through, leaving the creature that had stolen his father’s face and his father’s life behind.

His first trip to Neverland had left him bitter and calloused to a great degree. Baelfire hadn’t _wanted_ to remember the good moments of his childhood - and there had been many - lest his heart continue to break for the man he’d known. Instead, he walled himself off, determined to forget his papa and make a new life for himself. He had done both and then the very same man - wearing the face of his papa, not the demon - had come barging back into his life with something that might have been an apology if looked at at just the right angle and all the wrong words. Bae had held tightly to his bitterness that afternoon and he’d shut him out until the idea of losing him was forcefully shoved in his face. Then, and only then, had he opened himself up to hoping again. It hadn’t lasted, but he’d hoped.

The return to Neverland to find Henry had changed everything for both of them. Rumplestiltskin had thought his son was dead and his son had found out that his father wasn’t really gone. He was just buried under layers and layers of hurt and regret and pain. They talked - really talked - for the first time in centuries on the deck of the Jolly Roger and the hope had returned to stay. They’d promised each other to try, and Bae had fully intended to live by that. He knew his father would try his damndest too, because even if he’d been on the receiving end of the one deal the Dark One had broken, Rumplestiltskin was well known to keep his deals these days.

“Bae?” Belle whispered and the elder man blinked, finding tears sticking to his eyelashes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to-”

“It’s fine,” he answered quickly and was surprised to find his voice rough. “Yes. Yes, I’d want him back regardless. I didn’t…” Bae pulled in a deep, steadying breath. His emotions were always so conflicted when it came to his papa. Sometimes he felt guilty for not focusing on his own son more and then he’d feel guilty for not thinking about his father. That emotion was digging in deep at the moment and he closed his eyes to speak. “We didn’t get to say everything that needed to be said. He needs to know that I love him too. I can’t just let him go without him knowing.”

His father’s True Love offered him the warmest smile he thought he’d ever seen and she reached across the space between them, her small hand touching his. “We’ll get him back,” she promised, “and you can tell him.”

Bae nodded, trying for a smile of his own. Putting his family back together might come at a steep price, but there were very few he wasn’t willing to pay.

* * *

****  


Belle hadn’t slept. Granted, she hadn’t slept a lot since the curse’s reversal had put them back into the Enchanted Forest. Every time she closed her eyes she saw Rumple’s face and those dark, so very human eyes of his turning to her, telling her that she made him stronger. How strong, though, had cut deeper than any physical wound could have. She’d felt her heart begin to crack a little when he’d spoken because somehow she’d known that this was his way of saying goodbye.

Then the dagger had gone straight through Pan - as small as he was there was hardly any doubt that it would - and Belle had known the instant that it had pierced her love as well. She’d known when he died because her heart shattered in her chest, the feeling dragging her to the ground as she cried.

She’d spent their night in the Dark Castle researching anything that she could find on the Dark One. She knew that if anyone had books on his curse, it would have been Rumplestiltskin. Many of the books that had been littered throughout his home in Storybrooke, in his shop, and even some that had made their way into the library had been returned to the tower he’d built just for her and while she certainly hadn’t had time to look through them all, she’d at least had a pretty good idea where to start.

Something tugged at her mind when it came to their overly helpful candle that had somehow come alive in the library tower just for them. She’d never come across him in her time there and she was about certain that she’d lit every candle that there was to light, especially ones that were in the library. That didn’t necessarily mean he was lying, of course, but it did make her question, so she’d set out to try to find anything that she could about the Dark One, the vault, and what it all meant.

The book that the key had been in held precious little, but there were a few tomes scattered about that she’d found and made note of. While many Dark Ones’ names were lost to history there had been a bit about bubbling darkness from the depths of the earth and the tortuous screams of those left behind by their curse. None of it seemed well documented, but almost as if it had been lost to legend. In the end, she hadn’t found anything that kept them from leaving out first thing that next morning, Lumiere tucked away in a satchel to keep him out of the snow. He’d given them detailed instructions that they were to make their way down the mountain away from ocean on the other side - and Maleficent’s fortress - and past the village at the bottom. Some three or so hours later, if their pace was steady, they’d reach the edge of Sherwood Forest, the candle had told them, and from there they were to wind around, finding a stream - surely frozen over at this time of the year - and follow it along yet another hour at a good pace, then divate once they found the forked tree. Bae had had a snide remark or two about that one, but they were eagerly assured that they’d know it when they saw it.

“Lightning hit it,” Belle said as she looked up at the charred, dead lump of wood split nearly in two. Her feet were sore and she was about half frozen. The trip down the mountain had taken longer than she remembered, though they hadn’t had the luxury of Rumple’s carriage that they had used when traveling before the curse. The snow hid the ice beneath it, and on the steeper parts of the path it made it very slick. Neither she or Bae had managed to avoid slamming down hard on their backside at least once each.

They’d left out just before dawn and the sun seemed to be setting by the time they finally found the tree. Bae shot it a distasteful look and stalked right past it. “This way, right?”

“It should be,” Belle answered, shuffling through the snow drifts to keep up. While their journey had started off with plenty of chatter it had died down the further they walked. If she’d been tired before, she’d moved beyond it now into a state of drifting. Her thought had floated in and around, though the one constant through them was Rumple. “You know,” she said as they worked their way through the foliage, “every since it happened I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Rumple’s sacrifice.”

Bae turned towards her, the torch that they’d brought with them lighting their path and he gave her a questioning look.

“I mean how he died to save everyone in Storybrooke,” she clarified.

“You know that wasn’t it,” Bae countered, his dark eyes meeting her own bright ones and she noticed as she had so many times since they’d set out on their journey together just how much like his father’s they really were. “He died to save us. His family.”

Belle knew that, but part of her wanted to believe that he’d grown to care about their little town too. He’d always told her that he was no hero like in one of her books, that he did everything for a reason and a price, but giving his life for them certainly hadn’t been a selfish move. He’d broken past what he joked about as being a nasty habit of self preservation and he’d given everything to make sure they were safe. “At least he died a hero,” she answered. _Even if he’d never believe that he could be_ , she added silently.

“You surprised he had it in him?”

The question, especially after their conversation the night before, caught Belle a little off her guard, but she supposed that was to be expected. Bae loved his father and wanted him back, but that didn’t mean that all of the years and years of hurt were suddenly washed away. There were questions and there were answers yet to be had, and she was certain that was part of what drove the elder man. “Course not,” she answered truthfully and turned to him. “Were you?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a sideways look at her. His voice was guarded, not quite as open as it had been when they’d spoken about him in front of the fire, but it was thoughtful, like he was still working through so many of the emotions. “I mean, my papa was never the most selfless guy. I know he wished he hadn’t let me go through that portal. I know how sorry he was, but now that I have a son of my own I can’t imagine ever doing what he did.”

Belle paused for a breath of a moment and looked at him. Conflict echoed in his eyes and she found herself wanting more than anything to help him do away with it. This man loved his father, loved what he had been as well as what he could be - would be - for him now. Rumple had chosen a better path and Belle had faith in him that he could continue to choose a better path as long as they both stood by his side. Bae needed to be strong for him as much as she did. “He regretted what happened with you so much,” she said, hoping that somehow her words could convey even a fraction of what she knew that Rumple had felt. “He was willing to do anything to get back to you.”

Bae chuckled, the sound tight and forced. “Well, that’s one thing about him I can relate to. I’d do anything to get back to Henry.”

He didn’t say it, but Belle liked to think she was pretty good at reading between the lines, and if Bae was anything like his father, fear made him more prone to lashing out, even at those that he loved. He was worried that this wouldn’t work, or if it did, that Rumplestiltskin still couldn’t get him back to Emma and Henry. He was afraid that he’d never see them again and that he’d failed them. He didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to. She could see it in his expression and the way he carried himself. If he was anything like Rumple - and he was, more than he would probably ever care to admit it - it was time to change the subject.

“It’s uh… It’s getting colder.” The snows had started to fall again, covering the ground in a layer of white. At first she’d thought that was the cause of it, but as they drew closer they could feel the unnatural cold of something dark and evil lurking near. Belle steeled herself. It was the Vault of the Dark One, not a grove of fairies. As they drew nearer it became clear that they were close and she saw the clearing, just as Lumiere had described to them. “Look.”

The trees surrounded the clearing in nearly a perfect circle, but they hadn’t blocked the snowfall. A lone stump sat just at the entrance and Bae moved to set the candle down on it and lit it. The flames leapt up and Lumiere appeared. “You found it!”

“Now what?” Bae demanded, patience apparently wearing thin.

Lumiere gave instructions to look at the center of the clearing for the door into the vault. Belle and Baelfire exchanged a look and their conversation from the night before passed silently between them before Bae’s lips thinned out and he started in first. He walked to the center and sank down, digging in the snow as Belle came up from behind. Even as he called her name she could see the markings he was uncovering and again she thought that this all seemed much too easy.

“They key must go in the middle,” she murmured as she watched him pull it from his jacket pocket. They looked at it and it looked like it would be a perfect fit. Though just because something fit didn’t always mean that one should follow through with action. Knives fit well enough into electric sockets back in the Land Without Magic, afterall.

“You sure about this?” Bae called and they both turned to look at the irritable candle.

“I spent two hundred years in Rumplestiltskin’s library witnessing more dark magic and sorcery than any living creature has ever seen!” Lumiere snapped and Belle stopped. That was it, the piece of the puzzle that had simply been missing. It was a damn big piece too.

“I’m sorry, how long did you say you were there?” she called out as Bae turned to continue studying the entrance.

“Two hundred years. At least!”

She quirked an eyebrow in a disbelieving look and reached out to grab Bae’s attention. “He’s lying.”

“What?” her love’s son mumbled and she stood. The snow was coming down harder now, but she could see clearer than she had for the last day in which this trip had been planned. Something about the candle’s story hadn’t set well with her, but Bae had been determined that he needed to get back now. She didn’t blame him, of course, because she couldn’t possibly wait a moment longer than she had to for Rumplestiltskin to come back to her, but they had to be smart. They had to be as clever as the clever man she loved, and she knew they had it in them to be.

“Rumple built that library for me not long before the curse,” she said by way of explanation as she moved to confront the lying table decoration. “It’s been there barely thirty years.”

She could almost feel Bae’s rage take over as he lashed out, demanding to know who their supposed guide really was and leveled some fairly attainable threats at him, including simply leaving him there. Lumiere’s eyes widened and he didn’t seem to consider for a moment that they wouldn’t do it.

The story came tumbling out that Lumiere had been cursed by Zelena, not Rumple, and that the witch had told him that he must lure them to this place. She wanted them to bring Rumple back, but certainly not for the reasons that Belle or Bae had. “She wants you to bring back the Dark One so she can control him with his dagger.”

Belle felt the world shift. She was certain that Rumple had never told her everything about his dagger, but once he’d finally opened up to her about Bae, that conversation had led to mean others. The dagger had been one. The Kris dagger was what he called it and it held within it part of his curse. He was linked to it, mind, body, and soul, and whoever owned that dagger controlled the Dark One. It was how he’d become the Dark One and should anyone ever take it, he’d said, they could either control him or kill him with it.  

She turned towards Bae, the cold settling much deeper now. “We need to leave.”

“Belle, that means we can bring him back,” Baelfire argued. “Does it matter who got us here?”

While Bae looked a great deal like his father at a certain angle, Belle hadn’t thought he sounded a great deal like him until now. It wasn’t too much of a surprise, really, with how he’d tried for so long to be anything but Rumplestiltskin’s son, but in that moment she could hear Rumple. All he wanted was to get back to his family and he didn’t care what he had to do to get to that point. The difference was that his father weighed the cost carefully. He may not have paid it himself, but he always knew what that cost was going to be. Bae was blowing right past it.

“Rumple didn’t sacrifice his life for good so that he could return to be a slave to evil,” she tried to reason with him.

“My father is the king of loopholes,” Bae said as he started pulling his gloves from his hands. “I’m sure he’ll figure out a way to deal with her.”

“But what if he can’t? Think about what she could do if the Dark One was under her control.” She watched him carefully as he turned the key over in his hand. His mind, clever as it was, had to have been coming up with a thousand different scenarios just as hers was. He knew, possibly better than Belle herself, just what that dagger could make his father do. He’d come so far, given so much to be better than what his curse made him, and his son was risking all of that. What good was it to bring him back if he wasn’t himself? “We’ll find another way,” she promised, reaching out to him.

He opened his mouth to argue with her and stopped, the words cut short as he snapped his jaw closed again. There was such pain in his eyes in that moment, such hurt, that Belle felt her heart break for him. She understood, but in that moment they needed to be strong. Not just for themselves or for Rumple, but for all of those that Zelena could harm if she got ahold of him.

Bae loosed a long breath. “It’s too easy,” he whispered.

“I think so.”

“Papa always said things come with a price. A price equal to what you’re getting.”

She gripped his jacket and offered him a strained smile. “I promise you, Bae. There has to be another way. We’ll find it.”

“Okay,” he breathed at last, slipping his gloves back on and tucking the key back into his jacket.

“Okay?”

“Yeah. We can always come back.”

The words were forced, but she’d take them. Even as she watched him trudge straight past a sputtering Lumiere and up the path they’d come down, as she followed and snuffed out the candle to hide their path from their enemy, she couldn’t help but feel that they’d made the best decision they could. They might never know the terrors they’d avoided, but they could find something better. And Belle knew there was something better to be found.

 

* * *

 

TBC

Notes: Well, I thought it was about time to start putting this one over onto AO3. It's been up on FFN for a bit, but I know some people prefer AO3, and since I had so much fun writing this one, I thought it just made sense :)

Also, I'm doing a bit of a project with this one. I downloaded an app to make gifs (this could become a deep, dark hole in which hours are lost to) so I think I'm going to try to make a short gif set with every update. If you don't follow me on Tumblr, [you can find me here](http://takadasaiko.tumblr.com).

Next time - Chapter One: The Prince of Loopholes, in which Bae and Belle discover a spell in the Dark Castle that may help Baelfire get back to his family. _All_ of his family.


	2. The Prince of Loopholes

**Chapter One: The Prince of Loopholes**

They'd wasted more time than he was comfortable with by the time they finally returned to the Dark Castle. The snows had begun to fall in earnest just as they were leaving and they'd had to take up shelter in an inn that could hardly be considered one - Bae had spent his fair share of nights and twenty-minute-stop-offs in enough rat holes not to be too picky, but that particular place had left him feeling less rested than walking through the snow all night would have - and it was past nightfall again by the time they returned to the castle.

"I'm wondering if we should take these books to Mary Margaret's castle," Belle mused as she took a step back and looked up towards the shelves that reached towards the high ceiling.

Bae followed her gaze. " _All_ of them?"

"I think it's a safe bet to say we can leave the romance novels, but even this history books may have something useful in them. Rumple always did hide things in very strange places."

"You really think he would had a backup plan for this?"

Belle quirked an eyebrow at him and he couldn't help but think he'd said something stupid. "Aren't you the one that said he was the king of loopholes?"

"I'm also the one that said I was a little surprised that he sacrificed himself." Bae shrugged, running a hand over the spines of the books, the rough material causing a tingling sensation in his fingertips as he did. "But yeah, he was a planner, if nothing else. Even for the worst case."

"Perhaps all of them," Belle mused softly and returned to looking. "Zelena is sure to know that we didn't open the vault sooner or later. She won't just let it stand."

"Makes me wonder why she didn't open it."

"Maybe the person has to be related? Some sort of… oh, what did Rumple call it?"

"Blood magic."

"Yes, that's it."

Bae stopped, dark eyes coming to rest on the book that his fingers lingered on. It probably wasn't any worse of a place to start than the others so he plucked it from its place and opened it. The text was in another language, scrawled in letters and symbols that he didn't understand, but next to it in neat, small handwriting was his father's own script. He hadn't seen it in many, many years, but he'd recognize it anywhere. There had been many nights after Rumplestiltskin had finished spinning for the evening that he and Bae would sit at the little table next to the fireplace and he would work with his son on learning his letters. He'd taught Bae to read and write in a village that probably had a literacy rate of two people, and that was after Bae had learned. Even his mother had only been able to read at a very basic level, but his papa had made sure that Baelfire knew each and every letter and how to string them together. They'd had a whopping three books in the little hovel, but Bae had read them cover to cover a thousand times by the time he'd left. He'd have known his father's notes anywhere.

"What'd you find?" Belle asked, glancing down from the ladder she was climbing.

"Don't know yet." He flipped through the thick pages, finding bits and pieces his father had noted on. Rumplestiltskin had obviously known the language, even if his son didn't, and had scrawled half thoughts and sometimes less next to certain portions. None of it made a great deal of sense, but as Belle descended back down the ladder and peered over onto the pages she made a small sound that caught his attention. "What? Do you know it?"

"Not the language, but I know what kind of book it is. It's a book of spells." She reached for it and Bae gave it over, allowing the bookworm access to work her own brand of magic on it. She continued to hum to herself in intervals, flipping pages over and looking a bit longingly at the writing. "Very complicated spells, from what I know of them," she said after several long moments, looking back up at him. "I never learned any magic from Rumple, but I did manage to sneak a few glances here and there while he worked. This writing, from what I've been able to uncover, tends to be very old and very powerful magic. The spells can only be cast by a sorcerer of truly great talent."

"Can you make anything out of his notes?"

"I'd imagine they're in reference to the Dark Curse." She pointed at the notes as she read them out loud. "Useful. Not useful. Impossible. Would turn everyone into cows… while funny, still useless."

She giggled at the last one and Bae found himself smiling. "Cows? Some ancient sorcerer had a sense of humour."

"Perhaps so, but I'm afraid it won't be very useful to us if neither one of us can read it." She handed the book back to him and turned back to her ladder, pausing. "Are you willing to use magic to bring him back?"

"I'm not sure what else we'd use," he answered truthfully. "I mean, people don't just rise from the dead, even if they are the Dark One."

"Dark Ones don't just sacrifice their lives for people that they love," Belle countered. "Or love at all, I'd wager."

"You think my dad was that different from his predecessors?"

"I do. I think he was different from anyone you or I would ever meet. Rumplestiltskin was truly… unique."

Bae sighed, feeling the weight of of the situation settle heavy on his shoulders. It'd been foolish to think that the first book he might grab would be the one they needed, but somewhere deep down he'd hoped his father really had prepared for this in one way or another, and perhaps he'd known Bae would come looking for a way to bring him back. Baelfire snorted at the idea almost as soon as it'd crossed his mind. They'd talked a bit on the boat ride back from Neverland, but why would his papa have put his faith in his son that Bae would love him enough to look for him after this?

The split guilt started working its way through him again as he glanced back down at the book, ready to snap it closed and keep looking, but the symbols seemed to shift, blurring in and out before finally coming back into focus in something that he could read. He stared at it, head tilted to the side and trying to decide if he'd lost his mind or if he were dreaming and didn't realize it.

"Belle?"

"Hmm?"

"Take a look at this and tell me I'm not crazy."

She didn't bother to come down this time as she looked, squinting at the poorly lit pages and stepped down a couple rungs. "Is that…?"

"I don't know. It just changed."

"Where'd you find that book, Bae?"

"On the shelf. Here," he said, pointing to the empty place in the middle of a shelf.

"Why?"

"I don't know. Why not?"

"Something must have made you want to pull it out."

He wasn't sure what she was getting at and he shrugged. "I just chose this one."

She was on the floor again, looking closely. "These really are very interesting spells. Look here. Teleportation spells, healing spells, transfiguration spells… It has a bit of everything."

Bae skimmed over the pages until he found something truly interesting. It was a spell, one that looked very intricate and lengthy, and the product of it seemed impossible. His father had scribbled several notes next to it, but they were scratched out as if in a fit of rage and a line had been drawn through the entire page of explanation. "I thought time travel was impossible," he murmured, eyes still looking over the information.

"I don't think this is time travel, per se," Belle answered, pointing to one of the bottom paragraphs that had been half smudged by Rumplestiltskin's fit. "It looks like this spell sends the person's consciousness back, not their bodies. I suppose that's how it gets around breaking the law of magic."

"Same side effects, though. You can still royally screw with history."

"That would be if you could survive it. Look at this, Bae. There are so many notes of price and warnings attached to it…."

"What do you think he was even looking at this for?" Bae mused, trying to smudge out some of the markings to get a better view of the writing.

Belle snorted. "What do you think? If he thought he could use this to go back and make sure he didn't let go of you… He would have done it in a heartbeat."

Bae blinked at her. "Even if that meant he'd never find you?"

His father's True Love offered him a smile that wasn't quite sad. "Even if. I don't think you know quite how much he loved you, Bae."

"Sometimes I wonder," he admitted softly, finally making some headway. "Regina would be able to decipher more of this, I bet."

"You're thinking it's a viable option?"

"Maybe."

"Though not likely."

Bae felt his blood run cold and he snapped the book shut and handed it back behind him to Belle, both of them looking to the entrance of the library where a woman that had spoken and was making her way up the stairs. Zelena, he realized. This was the Wicked Witch of the West and she was in his father's home. Well, it shouldn't be that surprising, he supposed, with the way that she'd set them up to take the fall on opening up the vault. She was smiling toothily at them, lips painted an obnoxious colour of pink that stood out terribly against her green skin. She wore all black, including the hat perched up on her ginger hair and she laughed at their expressions. "Oh, I'm sorry. Am I interrupting something?"

Baelfire took a step in front of Belle and she in turn took a step back. There was one exit from the tower unless you counted the three or more story drop that jumping from the window would bring with it. Bae pulled his sword from its sheath. It was useless, he knew, but it felt better than simply standing there and letting her kill them. "What do you want?"

"So to the point. Your father would have been better for conversation," the witch said.

"My father isn't here. Looks like you're stuck with me."

"Pity. I really had planned turning one in for the other. Tell me, how did this little thing convince you not to turn that key? I really did think that was going to work. It should have. Desperation is such a powerful motivation, after all."

"That was the price," Belle gasped from behind. "A life for a life."

"You think you're so smart," Zelena growled, her face crushed into a scowl for a moment and she took a step forward, forcing them to retreat one in return. "I have ways of making you do it, you know. Then I'll have his dagger and with it, I'll have the Dark One. No one will be able to stop me."

"We're not opening that vault for you," Bae swore, inching back and saying lowly, "Belle, the teleportation spell. It can get us to Regina's castle."

" _What_?" she gasped. "I can't-"

"Pop said you cast the protection spell around Storybrooke while we were gone."

"That doesn't mean I'm suddenly a magician!"

Bae backed up another step, raising his sword as Zelena approached, chuckling at their back and forth. "Silly children. You're not going anywhere."

Belle swallowed hard and opened the book. Bae could almost feel her focusing on the words behind him as he took a swipe at Zelena and she caught the blade between her hands, holding it steadily there and grinning at him like some sort of monster out of a nightmare. Funny, he thought, but he was pretty sure he'd had a nightmare about the Wicked Witch as a teenager when he'd come back and seen the damn movie. It was definitely not a way to welcome him back to the Land Without Magic. "Belle!"

"It's not working!" she cried.

The witch still had a firm grip on his sword and Bae took advantage of that, sidestepping and using the momentum to shove her back. It didn't cut her, but it did give them some space for the half a second it would take her to cross it again. "You're not doing it right!" he growled, pulling the book from the younger woman. She let it go, startled, and he couldn't have explained how he'd known, but he pressed his hand against the page and looked back at Zelena as an unnatural wind began to whip around the library. It was like the bean, he realized, and all he had to do was focus on where he wanted to go. He'd seen the castle more times in Henry's book than the brief glimpse he'd caught of it in the distance before he and Belle had split ways with the others, but he focused on it, finding it in his mind's eye. In the very last moment before Zelena lunged at them, he grabbed Belle's hand and they vanished, the witch's howls barely audible behind them.

* * *

Camping with the Charmings. That was what her life had become. It was a neverending camping trip that included a pregnant Snow, a doting Charming, and a crazy elder sister that Regina hadn't even known that she had. She really hated camping, even when it was done in her own home.

She had spent as much time as she dared rebuilding her wards and her protections. It didn't help that even though Snow _said_ she trusted her, she felt the need to hover every time that Regina lifted her hand to brace the spell that had been tattered and shredded by the green-skinned witch. Snow had never been one to simply sit and watch either. No, she only thought she was being quiet. Regina could remember in the weeks leading up to her wedding to Leopold when Snow would think she was being oh-so-discreet in watching Cora practice her magic. She had been about as discreet as a wraith trapped in Gold's pawn shop. Sadly, the years hadn't done anything to diminish that trait in her.

"What does that one do?"

Regina sighed, lowering her hands and the glow that had engulfed them faded as she turned to glare at her step-daughter. "I'm having to replace every ward that I'd built with blood magic. If Zelena really is Cora's daughter than I don't want to wake up to her standing over my bed at night. Do you?"

"Of course not, I just don't understand-"

"Well keep it to yourself or I'll make sure to put one up that steals your voice every time you enter the room so that I can work in peace," the Evil Queen snapped, startling the younger woman. If Snow had been ready to say anything in return, though, she never got the chance, as Regina felt a sharp jolt accompany one of the wards she hadn't gotten to yet shatter entirely.

"What happened?" Snow asked hesitantly.

"Someone just teleported into the castle."

Both women moved quickly, Snow following just behind. Regina rounded the corner, magic already building around her incase she needed to lob a fireball at someone, but instead they saw two familiar figures in a heap in the center of the castle's Great Hall. They were coughing and sputtering, their clothes showing signs of scorch marks made by powerful magic in untrained hands. If they'd wanted to go any further or had any less will power to get them there, the spell would have entirely rebounded and likely burned them alive. As it was, there probably a gaping hole wherever they'd come from and they looked perfectly miserable where they now sat.

"Neal! Belle!" Snow gasped, scurrying over to them and her hands were flying, checking for injuries and trying to get them to respond.

"We're alright," Belle managed, still choking against the smoke. "Bae?"

"Yeah… good," he managed, pulling himself to his knees.

Regina watched them, her lips quirking up with peeked interest. One of them had cast a spell. This could get very interesting.

"Where have you been?" Snow asked, still fussing over them both. She dusted off Belle's jacket and turned to do the same for Neal but he squirmed away in the last moment, hands held outward and the glove of his right hand was burnt nearly straight through. Well that _was_ interesting. Rumple's son, the man who had hated magic so much as a boy, had manage to cast a spell. The queen's brown eyes shifted over to the book that he was picking up from the floor.

"What's that?" she asked and both Belle and Neal turned to her as if noticing for the first time that she was there. Regina tilted her chin up a bit and waited.

"Regina," Belle breathed, turning a distrustful look on the elder woman. Not that the queen blamed her. She _had_ locked her up for nearly thirty and purposefully mislead her love to believe that she'd committed suicide to keep him from looking for her. Well, time does march on. It was about time she got over that.

"Yes?" the queen asked with fake cheer.

"We found it in my dad's library," Neal said for her, pulling the pages apart so that it rested in the palm of his less burnt hand so that she would have a clear view of it. "We're looking for a way to bring him back and found this."

"Back?" Snow echoed. "Neal, he's dead. We've been over this…"

"I know, but just hear us out," he argued, motioning for Regina to take the book - not a burn mark on it - and continued speaking as she did, looking over the spell that he'd indicated. "If we could get him back - resurrect him or whatever - he could get us back to the Land Without Magic. He could-"

"Neal," the dark haired princess chided and it sounded like something that they must have discussed before.

"Resurrection's impossible," Regina cut her off. "As is time travel. That's what this looks like. There are rules to magic, Neal. They're there for a reason."

"But this gets around them," he argued. "Look."

She sighed, turning her gaze back to the page that was littered with Rumple's notes. Pieces of the spell were partially obscured by angry markings that were a telltale sign of the Dark One's temper when things didn't work out as he'd hoped. It could be smudged away with some care - and it looked like Neal had already begun that process - but the depth of the magic leaping up from the page sent chills down Regina's spine. The price was steep and there were many conditions to casting something like this. The caster could not be the one to travel. The traveler was limited to their own timeline as their consciousness would - if the complicated spell was cast correctly - be put into that body, more or less replacing who they were at the time. Interestingly enough one of Rumplestiltskin's more coherent notes toyed with the idea that the consciousnesses might eventually begin to war with one another, possibly melding together and possibly pushing one entirely out. Either way, the person would lose vital pieces of their life that made them who they were when they were sent back if they so much as took half a step off that path, and it would be impossible not to. No one would dare travel the exact same path if they knew what would happen if they did. There'd be no point in going otherwise. "You can't come back from this," Regina breathed at last, coming to the conclusion that Rumple must have.

"It doesn't matter," Neal said firmly. "If I do it correctly then there won't _be_ anything to come back to. This timeline will be rewritten into something better."

"So you think because you managed to trigger one of your father's blood-magic based spells that you're suddenly a sorcerer with the ability to cast something like _this_?" Regina demanded. "And I thought Rumple was arrogant."

"I wouldn't cast it. You would."

She stared at him like he'd lost his mind. "You can't be serious."

"He's not," Snow assured her, turning a glare on Neal. "You're not. You can't be. You're talking about obliterating our entire present. Charming and I just found out I'm pregnant. I can't-"

"So you'll have the kid in another timeline," Neal snapped. "Then you'll have _both_ of your children. Don't you _want_ to see Emma again?"

"Of course I do."

"You don't really seem like you do."

"Bae," Belle admonished softly, reaching out to Snow as the princess stared in utter shock at him. "There are many variables to consider." She turned a quick look on Neal, a conversation passing between them without words involved. "Regina, will you take a look at it and see if it's even an option?"

"Yes," Regina answered before she knew she'd even given herself permission to. "I'll take a look at it."

"Thank you," Belle said kindly and she squeezed Snow's arm. "Don't worry. Everything will be fine."

"Of course," Snow breathed and smiled. "Why do we get the both of you settled into a set of rooms? Maybe a change of clothes?"

"And a hot bath would be lovely," Belle agreed, but Regina couldn't help shake the feeling that she had no intention of letting the raven haired princess get in her way of getting to Rumplestiltskin. There was a sort of determination in her eyes and a cleverness in her words and in that moment Regina thought that she might feel something akin to respect forming for Rumple's little bookworm.

* * *

Belle had no intention of letting Snow talk them out of a way to save Rumple. While she was very fond of the dark haired princess, she'd noticed a trend in her behavior when it came to Rumplestiltskin. She never seemed as interested in helping him as she was in seeking his help. As good as Snow was at her core there was a bit of a selfish streak in her. It wasn't malicious or intentional, but it was there, and Belle refused to let the other woman's fear stop them.

When she'd been a little girl her mother had often told her to have the courage of the stars. Being a curious child, she'd asked her what she meant by it. Her mother had smiled her gentle smile and kissed her forehead. "The stars know that they cannot last forever, Belle," she'd told her daughter, "but they burn bright. They burn so bright, that their light continues on even after they themselves have died away."

Now they needed to find the same kind of courage. Belle understood the fear that Snow felt and in many ways she shared it. The people that they were as they stood right there and then would cease to exist from the world and a different version would replace them. Perhaps many different versions. It could be a better life or it could be much darker and more dangerous than they faced even now. There was no way to know, but Regina had taken nearly five days, secluded away in her private study, to look over the spell again and again before she'd agreed that she could do it. That was how the daughter of a landed knight that had fallen in love with the Dark One found herself standing in the Evil Queen's castle with her True Love's son about to undergo a complicated and dangerous spell.

"What happens if it's not cast correctly?" Belle asked softly.

Regina sighed, looking over the words that must have been etched into her brain by now. "Then Neal's consciousness will just sort of… drift. Something like a Sleeping Curse, I suppose."

"But without anyone to wake me up," Neal murmured.

"This is dark magic, but it's not a curse. If we lose you, there's no bringing you back. If you want to decide against this, the time is now," Regina said firmly.

"No. I have to get back to my family."

"And you're certain we won't shatter the worlds with this?" Belle pressed. She'd done some research of her own and had found nothing outside of the book of spells itself to even mention this one. As far as she had found, everything that could be known about this spell was in this book.

"No, it bypasses the law of magic that prohibits time travel."

Belle found herself smiling at this, glancing back at an increasingly nervous Baelfire. "I suppose if your father is the king of loopholes, this makes you the prince, doesn't it?"

Despite himself, Bae returned the smile. "Guess so. Anything either of you want me to say to… well, you?"

"I'm sure I'll just be very happy to meet you," Belle answered him, but Regina took a step closer.

"I won't believe you when you tell me. Rumple might. He's seen the book, but this is very rare magic. You may need to convince me, and if you do, I want you to be able to."

"What should I say?"

Regina leaned in, her lips moving so close to Bae's ear that the words never reached Belle's. He nodded slowly as she pulled away. "Okay."

"Okay," she agreed, pulling in a deep breath. "Let's get started, and remember: we have a deal. I'm sending you, so you'll help me get Henry back." She paused, shaking her head. "You'll help me _earn_ Henry back."

"We have a deal, Regina," Bae promised her, reclining back on the fainting couch. His entire posture was stiff and uncomfortable, but he offered a quick smile in Belle's direction as he settled back and asked, "So what do you need me to do?"

"You'll need to drink this," she answered, offering him a vial of a strange liquid. It was deep red in colour with swirls of gold winding through it. He took it from her and knocked it back like a shot at the bar, a shudder running through his whole body afterwards. "Now relax as best you can and focus. You've already shown an aptitude for magic. If you open yourself up to it and it'll help guide you," she continued. "Focus on where you want to be and what time you want to be in. The spell will do the rest."

Belle watched with wide, unsure eyes. In that moment she didn't feel very courageous as the spell worked its way through her love's son and he sucked in a rattling breath, every muscle going stiffer than before. His eyes were squeezed closed and Regina sat to one side, her hands stretched outward and magic swirled visibly around them. She'd often heard Rumple speak of magic as if he could see it as easily as he could feel it, and in that moment she understood what he'd meant. Wisps the same colour as the potion had begun to swirl around Bae, moving through him. Power surged and an unnatural wind picked up in the room as a terrible shudder ran through his body, lifting him nearly off the couch and then he went entirely still. His fingers loosened from the fists they'd formed and his face relaxed. He was lying still on the fainting couch, almost as if he were asleep.

Regina let a long breath out and finally opened her eyes, turning her gaze towards Belle. "It's done."

"How do we know if it worked?"

"We don't," the Evil Queen answered honestly. "At least we hope we don't. If we continue to remember this moment then that means that nothing has changed and Neal failed."

"And we failed."

"Yes."

Belle nodded numbly and pulled as much air into her lungs as they would hold before releasing it. She had to choose to have courage now. There was no turning back.


	3. That Place You Miss

He had spent more years than he hadn't running now. He'd run from the feelings of abandonment, from loneliness, and finally from fear. At this point, he was pretty sure he'd made more wrong decisions than right, and maybe he could understand his father a bit better because of that. Not everything was quite as black and white as he'd once believed.

He was floating in darkness, some sort of limbo. Though he was certain that he wasn't actually touching anything, his limbs felt heavy, as if he would begin to sink at an moment when gravity remembered where he was. It was a strange sensation, and for a moment he wondered if he'd dreamt the part where he'd changed his mind. Maybe he'd shoved the key into the lock and twisted, exchanging his life for his father's. What would the inside of the Vault of the Dark One look like anyway? Whatever it might have been, he was pretty sure that the vault that birthed the first Dark One didn't have an alarm clock. Well, maybe it did.

The alarm continued to blare in his ear and Bae groaned, reaching out for it. He seemed to know more or less where to go for it and he blinked his eyes open as the alarm continued to scream - as if to prove that it was real and not part of a dream - until his fingers hit the snooze. He found himself looking up at a stained ceiling with a familiar crack running through it. Maintenance was supposed to look at it, but they'd never showed. Not that that was overly surprising.

Baelfire sat straight up in bed, finally risking a look around. The spell. Regina had cast a spell. He wasn't in the vault, he wasn't dead. Somehow, possibly against the odds, it had worked. It was supposed to drop his consciousness back into his body in the time he focused on. His mind had run wild as Regina cast it, pulling together all sorts of images and memories forward. The last thing he could remember before drifting off to sleep was his old apartment in Manhattan. He hadn't the faintest idea why that had come forward out of all of the places that he could go, but it had, and found the very familiar surroundings as he looked around.

Everything was exactly how he'd left it, almost as if he never had. He eased himself out of bed carefully, bare feet making contact with the chilled wooden floor and he moved through the opening into the main part of the apartment. Thunder rolled outside and he glanced over to his desk where a postcard lay. One side showed a picture of Storybrooke, but the other was August's handwriting. _Broken._ At least he hadn't managed to land in a time before the curse was broken. That would have been inconvenient to say the very least.

It was surreal to stand in his old apartment knowing everything that he now knew. When his father, Emma, and Henry had buzzed through the intercom he'd been more than willing to run. He didn't want to face his father. In fact, he'd been so afraid of doing so that he'd been willing to let Emma go forever. That had been a mistake - on both ends - he knew now, and he'd make sure it wasn't one that he made again. He lived her, and even if she chose someone else he needed to make sure he was in his son's life. Henry deserved his father, and Bae was willing to do anything to be the dad he wanted him to be.

Bae moved around the apartment, finding things pretty much as he expected to. Emma had said he didn't look like he had much going for him and in truth she'd been right. It didn't look that way, at least, but he'd been in New York nearly three years by the time she'd dropped in on him and had lived in that apartment for nearly seven months. There were some goofy decorations, drawings, plates, a few clothes. Really nothing to prove he was willing to settle down for any length of time. As it appeared on the surface, he was a man willing to move at the drop of a hat. It hadn't been too far from the truth, especially after that postcard had arrived.

He grabbed a duffle bag and started shoving clothes in, not really paying attention to what they were. It didn't matter. What did matter was finding a way to get to Storybrooke without wasting any more time. He could fly into Boston and rent a car there or maybe take the train down. He didn't have the _Jolly Roger_ to cut the time in half. Hell, he didn't even know if Killian was in the Land Without Magic yet. He'd have to wait until he actually got to Storybrooke to get his bearings, but once he did he could find his dad. Rumplestiltskin was the only person likely to believe him anyway.

His hands stilled, halfway through shoving a t-shirt into the bag. Henry wouldn't know him, he realized suddenly. Emma had told their kid that his father was dead. She'd hated him so much that she couldn't even bear the idea of their son knowing he was alive somewhere out there. She hadn't even told him that they _had_ a son. He understood her anger, really he did. She was hurt and she was confused, but Belle's response when Bae had found Emma's necklace in his jacket pocket back in their land rang through his mind. It'd come through because of True Love. As a kid Bae certainly hadn't seen any signs that it existed, but as an adult, after everything he'd seen and been through, if he loved anyone with all his heart it was Emma Swan.

* * *

It was late evening by the time that Baelfire crossed the townline coming into Storybrooke. He could feel the magic wash over him as the rental car broached that spraypainted line, and he couldn't have possibly imagined the sense of homecoming that took hold. The drive in showed everything to be intact and the world was moving like his hadn't been destroyed. It hadn't, though. Not yet. He had time to fix it first.

Time may have started moving when Emma decided she believed in magic, but there would always be a timelessness about the little town. The cars, all mid eighties models or earlier, lined the streets as they did every evening, but driving by the pawn shop showed it to be closed down early. Well, he thought it was closed down early. As best as he'd been able to tell his father really didn't keep regular hours. The library was dark as he passed by, and he finally pulled to the side of the street and parked. At least Granny's was lit up still.

Bae stepped out of the car and the cool breeze caught him as he crossed the street and walked under the terrace towards the front door of the diner. It was a Saturday night, according to his cell phone, but that didn't mean that Granny's would be full. In fact, only a few people sat littered around the diner, all eyes turning to stare at him. They didn't know him here, he remembered. He was a stranger in a place where strangers were neither wanted nor needed. He paused at the doorway, blinking at the dwarves sitting at the bar and Marco and Archie in a booth. David also sat at the bar, but he looked like he was waiting for an order to be delivered out, and Bae thought his heart might have stopped for half a moment when his eyes turned to Henry. His son was sitting in a booth, also looking at him with wide, dark eyes so very much like his own. He looked surprised to see him, but not for the reason Bae would have prefered.

Ruby set a hot chocolate and a beer down on the counter and motioned at the visitor until David turned to look. The prince's blue eyes came to rest on Bae and he cleared his throat. "Hello."

"Hey," Bae returned carefully, still very aware of the interested and wary stares he was receiving. He tried looking at Ruby like everything was normal. Poor girl had enough toworry about without strangers heightening the tension. "Could I get a burger?"

"Sure," she answered as chipperly as she could manage before she made her way immediately into the kitchen, doors swinging behind her.

"Are you new here?"

Bae looked down at Henry who was suddenly standing right next to him. "Um… yeah," he said after a moment. "I'm just visiting."

"Why?"

"Henry," David chided and the boy shrugged.

"What? No one ever comes here."

That brought a small smirk from Baelfire and his lips quirked up lopsidedly. "I'm trying to find someone."

"Someone that lives here?" his inquisitive son asked.

"I hope so." He moved slowly, taking a seat at the bar a couple of stools down from David and tried not to look too nervous at the fact that only a couple of the dwarves seemed to be more interested in eating rather than staring at him. Before he'd been welcomed into Storybrooke. They knew who he was and that he wasn't a threat. These people that had so much to hide had no such reassurances now, but what could he say? _Hey, I'm Rumplestiltskin's son. You know where my dad is?_ didn't seem like the best opening line. He knew his father's reputation well enough.

"Who is it? David's the acting sheriff. Maybe he can help you find them."

"Acting?" Bae echoed and Ruby set the hamburger down in front of him. He offered her a smile and she returned it carefully.

"My… uh… Henry's mother is the sheriff," David stumbled over his explanation, "but she's… away. I've just stepped in until we can get her back. Who are you looking for? We'd be happy to help you."

"Mr Gold, actually. I think he owns a pawn shop in town."

"Why would you want to find Mr Gold?" Henry asked, taking the seat that was open between Bae and David.

"I'm hoping he can help me with something."

Henry grabbed for his hot chocolate and took a long sip. "Have you come very far?"

"Yeah, a pretty long ways," Bae admitted softly.

Granny suddenly appeared at the kitchen door, as if her wolf sense had picked up on a customer for the night. "Well do you have a place to stay?"

"I was hoping to stay at the inn. I guess I'd need to talk to you about that, huh?"

"I might be able to scrounge a room for you," the innkeeper said with a thoughtful nod. "If I could get your name I'll go get you the key now and you can take your stuff up once you've finished."

"If Gold wasn't at his shop there's no telling where he's at tonight," David offered. "It should probably wait until morning."

Bae tried not to look too disappointed. He'd told Henry that he'd traveled a long ways to get there, and that had been an understatement. He'd bent a rule of magic to get there, but as he sat in Granny's Diner with his son perched on the stool next to him, he couldn't help but be pleased with the choice. He'd find his dad and his papa would help him to set everything right. He'd know what to do.

Granny was still waiting for him and he shook himself out of his thoughts. "Sorry. I'm Neal," he said, finding that name better fitted for his search than his own. "Neal Cassidy."

* * *

Rumplestiltskin rarely bothered to keep the hours he had posted on his shop. It wasn't as if there were a great number of people scrambling for nicknacks nowdays, not with the curse broken at all. Not that the damn thing had broken quite as he'd expected it to. He may have written it, but not even he had been able to prepare for every possible outcome.

The issue with the townline was a setback that had put him into a foul mood since he'd found out. He was still trying to find a way to cross it without losing his memories - rendering the entire endeavour meaningless if he couldn't find Bae - but had yet to uncover anything concrete. With each failed attempt he grew more and more frustrated. He needed something to distract his mind from it at least for a few hours.

That morning, though, as he walked around the corner of his shop, he found an unexpected visitor waiting for him at the locked door. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked irritably, shooting a meaningful glare at Charming.

"Do you know a Neal Cassidy?" David asked, not bothering to play at the niceties. They might have had something akin to a truce between them, but neither man was under any disillusion that that meant anything less than they'd stay out of each other's way.

"Should I?" Rumplestiltskin asked as he turned the key in the front door and stepped inside. He hadn't needed a key in some time, but old habits died hard. He'd spent nearly thirty years believing he wasn't a great deal more than a pawn shop broker with connections everywhere and a law degree on the side.

Charming followed. "He seems to know you."

"Many people do," the Dark One responded and just barely resisted to urge to roll his eyes. Many was an understatement. As Mr Gold his name hung outside of the pawn shop for all of Storybrooke to see and as the owner and landlord on most leases held in the town. As Rumplestiltskin his name was known in certain circles and muttered in fewer still. Both worlds allowed him to enjoy the power that came with the name. "What of it?"

"He's not from here," David said, his voice low as if there were anyone else was in the shop at that hour that would fan the flame of rumour.

It did catch Rumplestiltskin's attention though. He'd had people come to Storybrooke looking for him and it hadn't turned out well for him. He didn't care to repeat the incident. "Who is he?"

"I was hoping you'd know. As you can imagine, strangers in Storybrooke won't be good for anyone."

"Agreed."

Charming paused a moment, as if waiting for something, but for what Rumple wasn't sure. He might have had the gift of Foresight - as unpredictable as it was here in the Land Without Magic - but he couldn't read minds. He was fairly certain he wouldn't want to read the blond prince's mind even if he could. Finally, the taller man sighed. "He's young, maybe about thirty or so? Dark hair, dark eyes. Nice enough, but-"

"It doesn't matter how nice they are if they catch sight of magic being tossed around," Rumplestiltskin answered. "He asked for Gold?"

"He did."

"Anything else?"

"Just that he'd come a long way and hoped you could help him with something."

Rumplestiltskin leaned against one of the counters, mind running like mad even if he only appeared thoughtful to the onlooking shepherd-prince. If he were truly from the outside he'd have no knowledge of what this town was, but if he had been caught up in the curse and had found a way to leave without losing his memories, therefore allowing him back in... Well, that could make him valuable. "And you're certain you've never seen him before?"

"He's not from here. He's staying at Granny's." David sighed. "I was hoping you'd have some idea of who he was. It's not like I can just lock the guy up for visiting, but there are things that outsiders really shouldn't stumble across here."

The sorcerer quirked an eyebrow. Good to know Charming had thought that through at least, but it didn't sound like that thought process had gone much further. Well, the man was rather wrapped up in finding a way to bring his wife and daughter back. "So what _are_ you planning to do?" Rumplestiltskin asked after a moment.

Charming frowned. "I'm not quite sure yet. Will you... Well just let me know if this guy approaches you, will you?"

A thin, knowing smile crossed the Dark One's lips. "Are you asking for a favour then?"

"I would hope that I wouldn't have to ask you for a favour on this, as it seems you're just as much in the middle if it as the rest of us. Possibly more"

He was getting better at this, Rumple had to admit, though he hardly had to admit it to David's face. "Fair enough. If I find that I can't handle it-"

"I'd really like to avoid you _handling_ it. That's the point."

"Is it now? You'll forgive me if I don't have quite the faith the others in town seem to have placed in you."

"Just... Don't draw attention," Charming sighed and it brought a low chuckle from the elder man.

"Discretion is one of my finer qualities," Rumplestiltskin assured him with an impish smile. He watched the prince leave without another word, shaking his head. Charming knew as well as Rumple did that if this visitor posed any threat at all that he'd be dead in an instant and no one would find the body. He hoped that this young man would prove useful rather than threatening. Though if it did turn out as the latter, there wouldn't be enough left of him for anyone to find.

* * *

Belle hadn't known quite what she was getting herself into when she'd taken on the project of reopening the library. Rumple had given her the key and had told her everything. Well, not _everything_. She wasn't fool enough to believe that, but certainly more than he usually trusted people with and that's what she needed from him. She knew he loved her, that wasn't the question. She needed him to be brave enough to trust her as well.

Books were piled high all around her as she sorted through them. She'd spoken to him a couple of times since she'd been ready to let him go. The insecurity in his voice was odd, but she thought that might be just another sign that he was opening up. He didn't dare let anyone else hear it, but he'd stammered his way through asking how the library was coming and if she needed anything at all for the renovations. She didn't yet, she'd assured him, and had made him promise to come by and see it once she was finished. He'd gone silent then and she'd wondered if she had said something wrong before he'd told her softly that he'd like nothing else better.

Belle smiled to herself as she dusted off yet another book from the box she was currently working on. To was well past time for Storybrooke to have an active, functioning library. Henry Mills had been dropping in reguay and asking when the doors would open. When the little bell over the front door dinged, she thought it might him, but as she peered around the stacks and stacks of reading material, she saw a man that she couldn't recall having seen before, even if there was something familiar about those dark eyes. He stopped at the opening, looking around as if it weren't at all what he expected. "I'm sorry," Belle offered as she stood, making herself visible from behind the boxes of books. "We're not quite open yet. Still trying to get everything in order."

The man offered her a startled, but easy smile. "I can see that. Got your hands full, huh?"

The soon-to-be librarian grinned. "I enjoy it, actually. I know it sounds silly, but there's something comforting about being surrounded by so much knowledge. I could never soak it all up in one lifetime, but it's fun to try."

His smile thinned out a little and he ran a hand through his grey-flecked hair, clearing his throat. "I was.. Ah. Well, actually hoping you might be able to answer a question for me."

She offered him an encouraging smile. The man looked like he could use one in that moment. "Sure, if I can."

"I'm... visiting. I'm new here and I'm looking for someone. Mr Gold."

Belle tried to keep her expression even. Why would a stranger be looking for Rumple? "Have you tried his shop?"

"I dropped by last night when I got in. He'd already gone. I thought you might know when he usually gets there."

He looked more and more uncomfortable as the moments between his question and her still yet to be spoken answer came. She realized that and felt her face heat just a little. This was silly. It was just a man looking for Rumple. That wasn't abnormal. "It depends on the day, but he's likely there now."

"Thanks," he said with a quick smile.

She watched him go, the door closing behind him and she pulled her cell phone out and hitting redial. It might be silly, but she'd rather him know.

* * *

The sense of homecoming from the night before had been dulled some by the headache that Bae had woken with. He didn't know if it had something to do with the spell or if he just hadn't slept well, but the constant pounding was something he could have done without. He'd nearly slipped twice to Belle, even if he'd only been in there a whopping five minutes or so. He'd spent so much time with her recently that it was natural to slip back into that familiarity. She didn't know him, though. Not yet.

There wasn't a great deal if distance between the library and the pawn shop, though there wasn't a great deal of distance between _anything_ in Storybrooke. In a small way it reminded Bae of the little village he'd grown up in. Nothing moved and nothing changed. The same people could be seen day in and day out. There were more differences than similarities in the details. Even though there were sometimes violent skirmishes, people weren't being sent off to die in war. They had modern medicine and medical care and various other perks that the Land Without Magic of that particular day and age had to offer. All in all, he was rather fond of it. He'd thought, from the brief time he'd had on the _Jolly Roger_ with his father after they'd gone to rescue Henry, that his father was too. It was home.

The bell announced Bae's entrance and he found the blinds pulled tight across the windows so that only streams of light danced across the wooden floors of the shop. He hadn't been nervous until now, but something built inside of him as he looked around, knowing that his father would have never left the door open unless he were somewhere inside. There was shuffling in the back office and the steady tap of a cane hitting the floor. Rumplestiltskin paused as he exited, dark eyes carefully guarded and Baelfire felt his chest constrict just a little. He'd watched this man die just a few months prior. He'd sacrificed himself for his family, but here he stood as if none of that had happened. In fact, none of it had happened yet at all.

"So," the shop owner drawled, his voice much colder than Bae was expecting, "I suppose you're the one that's been looking for me."

Bae swallowed hard, the words catching in his throat as they tried to come up. "Yeah."

"Neal Cassidy is the name that I've been hearing 'round," Rumplestiltskin said as he came closer. "Doesn't seem to suit you though. Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"You don't recognize me," Bae breathed, trying not to feel the sting too deeply.

"Should I?" his father snapped.

For a moment the younger man wondered if he'd been mistaken somehow. Maybe the curse wasn't broken in Storybrooke. Emma had been here a while before it had been broken, hadn't she? Maybe this was Mr Gold he was speaking to and only Mr Gold. As far as he knew his father's Storybrooke persona didn't have a son and wouldn't have cared about a young man that came looking for him. He hadn't really considered the possibility that Rumplestiltskin wouldn't recognize him. After all, he'd known him so readily when he'd come looking for him in Manhattan. "Papa, it's me," he whispered before he quite knew the words were leaving his mouth.

The elder man went stiff, dark eyes widening a moment before narrowing dangerously. "Get out."

"What?"

"I don't know who you are or what your game is, but it's a dangerous one you're playing, dearie. Get out before I make you regret playing it."

Bae pulled in a steadying breath, taking a step towards him and catching him as he turned to retreat to the back room, his fingers grabbing at the expensive material of his suit. "I'm not playing a game. It's me, Papa. It's Bae."

Rumplestiltskin whirled on him, fire in his eyes and power radiated off of him. "You reek of dark magic. You're not my son. He'd never touch it. You're not my Baelfire."

He stumbled back and he wasn't sure if it was because of the words or if his papa's magic had physically pushed him away. It could have been a bit of both, but it didn't push him all the way to the door. Instead, he saw what was perched up on a shelf by it and he moved quickly, snatching the ball from its sitting place before the other man could disappear as previously planned. "You remember how I got this?"

"It's not yours."

"We were at Longbourne late one autumn," he said, ignoring the sharp and cutting tone. "I asked you for it, but we didn't have enough with the winter coming. You bought it anyway, and you made me promise to be careful with it." He watched his father stop as he spoke, turning around with a terrified expression on his face. Bae found himself smiling and shaking his head at the memory. "I was what, ten? I thought I knew so much. Morraine and I were playing in the street as soon as we got home and I slipped on an early patch of ice and fell."

"You broke your wrist," his papa whispered hollowly.

"Yeah, and you kept calling and calling for me. You were so scared that it wouldn't heal right or that something terrible would happen and I'd never be able to use my hand right again." He paused, weary of moving forward. If he did he might shatter what he hoped was his father's understanding slowly spinning into being, but without warning Rumplestiltskin went rigid again, shaking his head frantically.

"No. _No_ , I won't be tricked again. I won't be. My son would never come looking for me. He wouldn't-"

Bae crossed the space between them then and he put a hand to either side of his father's face and forced him to look forward. " _Look_ at me. I came for you, Papa. I came looking for you. Please don't push me away." He hadn't expected to be so completely shut down and turned out by the father that had ripped apart the worlds to find him. Here he was now, having to beg to be heard, just as Rumplestiltskin had begged him in that little apartment in Manhattan and he'd shut him down just the same. Fear did terrible things, Bae realized. The fear of being wrong about something and sometimes even the fear of being right. He hadn't wanted to know if his father was a changed man then, and even now he knew he wasn't a saint. He never would be, but that didn't matter to him anymore. At least not as much as getting his family back, and in that moment he couldn't imagine his family whole without him.

Bae sniffed, the emotions running high between them and he tried to keep his gaze steady, but the warring look in his father's dark eyes was beginning to claw at his certainty of the plan he, Belle, and Regina had devised. His hands dropped back to his sides and he loosed a shaky breath. "Papa, please," he begged one more time.

Rumplestiltskin's left hand came up to his face, trembling as he touched it. "Bae?"

"Yeah, Papa, it's me."

Arms wrapped around him as the cane clattered to the floor and Bae returned the embrace readily, his grip tight. He buried his face in his father's shoulder and tried to remind himself that he needed to breathe.

"I thought I'd lost you forever, son," his papa whispered, not letting go. "I've been looking. I came here, but then we were trapped, and I-"

"I know, Papa. I know everything about it. That's why I'm here."

The elder man pulled back and for a moment Bae thought that he was about to change his mind again, but there was worry in his eyes, not for being wrong, but for something else. "Oh, Bae, what have you done?"

The interruption came in the form of the door opening, Belle's voice following immediately after. "Rumple, did you find out… Oh. Hello."

They probably looked a sight with the way they were still clinging to each other. Bae offered a strained, but real smile as he put his arm around his papa so that he could shift his weight to keep it off of his bad ankle. The emotional outpour had left him feeling drained and he'd been expecting… something, at least. He couldn't imagine what was going through the elder man's mind now.

Rumplestiltskin looked as if he might be ready to spin some sort of half truth, but he caught himself, pulling in a deep breath and loosing it in the form of a sigh. "Yes, Belle, I did find out who he was. Bae, this is Belle. Belle…. this is my son. Baelfire."

Her clear blue eyes widened. "Your son?"

"Hey," Bae greeted, but his father's voice brought him back around to him.

"Bae, you must tell me quickly what you've done. I meant it when I said I can feel dark magic from you. What happened?"

It was something more than an emotional outpouring then. It was something that the spell had carried over. The headache was worse now and his ears were ringing. It made it difficult to focus through and he blinked steadily for a moment, trying to clear his vision. "There was a spell. In your castle."

"In our land? How did you make it there?"

He could feel his vision tunnelling and he knew he didn't have long to explain. "The spell sent me back. My… consciousness…. It bypassed the no timetravel rule."

"Oh Bae," his father whispered, pain etched into his voice as his hand came to the side of his face. "What have you done?"

"I had to find you, Papa. I had to-"

Then he was sinking, the world around him dark and smothering and he could hear his papa calling out his name as his knees gave way beneath him.


End file.
